My brother's visit

Tommy, the brother I didn't know I had came to visit me in Chloride, Arizona with his two wonderful daughters. He is a thoughtful man, smart and generous. He knew I existed and has been looking for me for years... It is strange to be of the same DNA and to be different because of growing up on different situations. We both in our rather different circumstances turned out all right. He brought a flash drive with the whole family tree dating back to the 15th century.

Since I didn't know he existed, I didn't miss him. But he knew of me. So he kind of has missed me all that time since he knew of me. We had a few nice days together, driving to Hualapai mountain where we had a light lunch and enjoyed the beautiful landscape. We were at a farmers market and saw the old town Kingman. We talked and listened. It was overwhelming but in a good way. And we rounded off the visit in the Damn bar steakhouse, the most cowboy place around with good and delicious food. The girls choose Nacho's brother and sister had steak!

 Since then we have spoken on the phone slowly getting used to hear each others voice.
Gratitude is in order.

Conceptional artist Roland Van den Berghe

 I was surprised when I was contacted by Roland Van den Berghe, friend of Annie Reniers. She had shown him one of my poetry books Traces/Sporen. He found there a poem that intrigued him since it had a clear volta. Having listened to the man and his wild ideas I realize his deep seated pacifism, his true interest in Vietnam and condemning the ugliness which went on there.

The first song I knew

was

    my daddy is over the ocean

and of course

I thought every American

was my father

Later

I was to blame for the Vietnam war

belonging

where I didn’t belong

Now I hear your voice

      You charmer sweet talker

Too much dying had gone on

to settle down

        when the screams and fire

still pierced your dreams

when you freed my mother from her enemy

and waged a sweet war with her

So GI

later

      - so much later now -

your acceptance

has liberated me

     

belonging where I do belong

Roland is a conceptual artist and when he showed and explained some projects he had done to me I developed a new understanding of conceptual art. I realize the amount of thought and thorough preparation it involves. He was intrigued by the moment the poem changes. I also realize that the pacifist message from the poem would resonate in him since he has done many pacifist actions through his work. Roland, to say the least is well read and has traveled a lot and was interested in Vietnam where he left crutches behind in several locations, taking a picture of it every time.

Sagesmoke over the water

I know I haven't been blogging for a while. Not that there wasn't anything to say. On the contrary there was too much to say. Too many e-mails clamoring for attention: yes most of them worthy causes. Too many activities. There was Hoboken goes West: friends of mine had organized and Dave from Scarborough came over for the occasion. He and I went 'junk shopping', checking out secondhand stores. I found Ben Okri's sequel to 'The famished road', I book I devoured. The book 'Songs of Enchantment' just 50 cents. And yes, the first paragraphs did again captivate me. 'The West' in Hoboken consisted of civil war reenactments, even a small field hospital and some Indians with leather robes and beaded patches and tipi's in the park and a Leonard Peltier stand..

 Family visits, and a solemn goodbye to a lady found dead in the water. Her daughters and family, her friends from NAIS, all were there. In a sober way Black Eagle smudged us all. Memories were shared. Questions remained unanswered.

 did she think
did she ponder
or just
did it
by accident
into the cold
water
purse on the quay
or did she let it happen
welcoming the push
was she alone
overcome by the pull of death and bliss
and was someone
watching her
was she standing
before the jump
or did she glide gently
off the quay
who after all this
took her phone
the little money
from her purse on the quay

and then
sage smoke and flowers
and silence for her voyage

Wolves and ranchers

There is a rancher I know, a good person, I even call him my friend, yet... He kills coyotes to protect his cattle, notwithstanding the fact that he says that feral dogs are worse than coyotes and wolves. Predators are beautiful and contribute to a viable ecological system. I don't understand the demonizing of wolves and coyotes. My friend once even shot a coyote from his truck while I was riding 'shotgun' with him. I must admit it made me more distant towards this person. I endorse the wolf protection actions of the Center for Biological Diversity. I also endorse US Rep. Peter DeFazio of Oregon and US Rep. Ed Markey of Massachusetts, with US Rep. Raul Grijalva of New Mexico as a lead sponsor. Right now they are circulating a letter to their colleagues in the US Congress, expressing support for America's wolves still under federal protections, and that those federal protections remain in place. I quote from the Center for Biological Diversity:

As if the persecution and killing of over 1,000 wolves, over the past six months alone, in Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, Minnesota and Wisconsin, is not enough, the US Fish & Wildlife Service now wants to remove federal protections for wolves in the remaining states where they are still under federal  protection. This unethical, anti-ecology political maneuver includes states that have just a few dozen wolves or none at all! How ridiculous is such a proposal? Why even have an Endangered Species Act if corrupt federal officials or any corrupt state government can declare a persecuted and endangered animal unworthy of protection due to lies, mythology and dirty politics? 

When I first came to Arizona, I used to hear the coyotes every night. Their night song was a reassurance, a connection to all what lives, made the stars shine brighter and the full moon more purposeful. Last year was the first time I didn't even see nor hear a coyote and I miss them bitterly. It just doesn't feel right. Also, I once encountered a red timber wolf near the Colorado river, about four in the afternoon. We looked at each other. I saw his magical brown eyes, he must not have sensed any danger coming from me, so he slowed, glanced back at me and went his way disappearing in the desert. That was however in the early '90's... Yet I can still feel the enchantment thinking about my coyotes and wolf encounters.

Futures (yes, plural!)

Maya Van Leemput is a futures researcher who got her PhD 10 years ago and since then has been collecting with her partner Bram Goots (Camera and DoP) images of the future people hold. Their latest project is in Molenbeek in Brussels commissioned by ‘The House of Cultures’ of St Johns-Molenbeek. They interviewed and filmed about 30 people. Next Friday, December 21, the day the world is predicted to end, she is showing the film ‘Reel Molenbeek Futures’, starting at  8pm. Why plural? Well there are no future facts, are there? So there is not only one possible future, but many possible futures that we co-create by our action, non-action, by what we can imagine, by how we would like those futures to be. For that you need clear images, maybe even universal values... As one of her futurist friends said: With fuzzy images of the future, you get a fuzzy future. Think about it, if you see clearly what you would like in let’s say 18 years, then you can do things to make it happen. If you have never thought about it, the film might just help you realize it is a fun and useful exercise in our life to think and dream and discover our expectations about our different possible futures.

Address & time:
8 PM

House of Cultures and Social Cohesion:

Chaussee de/Steenweg op Merchtem 67

1080- Sint –Jans- Molenbeek- Saint-Jean

Brussels-Belgium

You're all invited... French or Dutch subtitles...

Zygomatik: Piet Verbist in quintet

The zygomaticus major is the muscle in your face from kind of your temple to your mouth. The zygomaticus minor is the one going to  the lower part of your face: together they make all expressions. So actually Zygomatik is a great name for a very expressive Jazz cd. Piet Verbist is the leader of the group, performing on Sunday morning as a quintet. Words that come up while thinking of the concert are:
Full
power
unpretentious high quality
expressive
jazz funk
rock
Above and Beyond brings the fragility of bow on strings, from lust to lost, the drums gather and accent the delicacy of the quintet. Their names: Herman Pardon on the drums, Bram Weyters piano, Vincent Brijs and Matt Renzi (San Francisco) bass and tenor sax...
The 4th piece had a genteel start, hands on drum, almost oriental, in a beautifully structured time and improvisation and thereafter we fall into Piet's magnificent: PMS Alert! read: Piet's Manic Scream Alert! Belief me it was like a rush, soft and wild in the discipline of a musical structure. Great stuff!

Black Lamb

During the opening of the group exhibition of Black Lamb I got intrigued by some of the artists and spoke with three of them. Bruno Kristo's work I knew and thoroughly appreciate and I went because of him. And as a friend says: stick your nose out of the door and something will happen. The first artist I had a conversation with was Yosvany Malagon Hernandez from Cuba. His work is interesting because of his philosophical approach to art history and because he transforms political criticism in art. I loved his artistic rendering against violence and capital punishment. He also has a series of the Polish Pope worked in in different paintings relevant in European cultural history. He often combines objects and pictures in his work. I had forgotten by camera so please look here for all pictures. The second artist was Japanese Hiromi Oikawa living in New York. The paintings which spoke most to me were two portraits of a young girl. One an involuntary suicide bomber, who went to the police in tears and showed how she was rigged, trying to get rid of the bomb. She was punished at not yet 15 years to seven and half years of imprisonment. The other girl is her best friend's daughter, innocent open giggly. And then Italian Norma Des: at first glance passing by her pantings, I thought frilly, girlish, decorative. Yet, the work kept calling me back. My subconscious must have felt how she empowers women. Pink as innocence is deconstructed through a pink loose ribbon as perverse. In an other painting an abundant redhead says: mette mi come segno: show me as a sign (maybe even a signal). We spoke at length, brushing up on my Italian. Through the lively conversation I learned to appreciate a painting I had felt to be horrible, seeing the beauty but also despair which befalls us all at times...

Poetry in the park in Hoboken

 It was a wonderful afternoon: Easy talk among like minded friends, good poetry read. The choice of musicians grand. Left, poets listening to poets reading. Right Roger Nupie and Vera Alexander Beerten. Roger read naughty homo erotic poetry, lighthearted and fun. Vera read a cycle of poems about 34 children drowning on a Friday night during the war. Chilling to the bone. The words smuggled in all had to do with caring for one or other issue or being moved by something. The audience was wonderful participating in the exchange with poets: looking up at the leaves in the dappled light, repeating words when a poet asked them to...

 

It was all great stuff. The extra appearance of Iron Maiden lead singer Blaze Bayley was a pleasant surprise. Many reasons to be grateful.

Around the kiosk

Frank De Vos organizes next Sunday, September 9, a beautiful gathering of eight poets who will smuggle in their words around the kiosk in Hoboken. It starts at three, be there!

Smuggle ware from Croatia:

Birds whisper softly

don’t drown out

what was thought

Bells clang

-       it is six o’clock-

invite

to the day

the good life

in submission

to a normal life

of singing women in black

Thereafter

the heart  full of fire

the soul in the wind

and the distance that calls

Birds whisper softly

don’t drown out

what you think at all

Living on the edge of the Jewish quarter

Living on the inner edge of the Jewish quarter I have a choice when  I go shopping: to the right or straight ahead I'll see the people in their diverse religious attire. Fedora like hats on top of the head, white shirt all in black with the curls along the ears flying while cycling on the boardwalk. Yarmulke's and the fringe of their ceremonial scarfs peeping out from under the coat, while some where long white stockings and large fur hats, which when it rains are covered in a specially designed plastic bag. The women I saw this morning wore all a different color of wig: black or blond, light or dark brown. All wore comfortable flat shoes. The difference between richer and poorer Jews is immediately visible. The poorer women can't afford a good wig, so they wear scarves, either hiding all their hair or a scarf with an attached fringe of hair sticking out.
Since there are also a lot of Polish Jews there are also some good polish shops where you find kefir, other wise only found in the health shop or in the Pakistan shop. I also notice that some peope go to synagogue each morning and on special occasions they'll have palm leaves wrapped in plastic under their arm.

Going left however, I enter the general mainly European stream of peoples, with North Africans and black Africans being part of the mix just as Turkish and oriental people. A friend once called me on the fact that when one is at a local police station and does not speak the local language that one has to bring an interpreter. She was totally offended by this and thought the city should have the interpreters on call. So I got curious and asked how many languages were present in the small old jail, where people who have been picked up wait for their first meeting with the judge. The answer was a to me staggering amount of 76 languages. So the menu is from kosher to halal, from bio dynamic to straightforward meat, potatoes and veggies... All in walking distance. Wonderful.
What I don't understand is that the protests against the scarfs Muslim women wear and the acceptance of the same principle in a different execution in the Jewish community. In both cases the hair of women is supposed to for private viewing only.

Familiarity

I know A. since she was 11 and I was 12. Being very bright she had been schooled a year early, so we ended up in the same secondary school class, both having chosen Latin and Greek. She remembers whom and how I was in the difficult years of puberty and the fear of a stepfather. I remember her 'normal', yet strict family. We followed each other's lives and marital turbulences. We knew about each other's jobs, crushed longings, unfulfilled expectations and moments of joy and happiness. We are friends, even if I fall often short on being there for A. when she needs it. She knows that I know and thus we get together every so often to exchange, to tell about the latest episode of our lives's road. She is ebullient and talkative, I am a good listener. While listening I recognize old patterns, habits, griefs, resulting for me in a sense of peace stemming from familiarity. The normality of our encounters is also the glue that keeps us in each other's life. She is adventurous and does volunteer work in the field of alternative cultural events. She is brave, yet needs a structure which grants her her freedom without making her feel lonely or isolated. 

I once wrote a poem for her:

Ach A,

Ik wilde komen

maar voor ik zo vertrekken

moet naar nieuwe straten

ander licht en vreemde bedden

koester ik mij in stilte

het alleen zijn thuis

en vergeet dan

dat om 11 uur

zondag de wereld

nog bestaat

Ik wilde komen

maar nu bij koffie

wachtend op de pendelbus

is het te laat.

*

Oh A,

I wanted to come

but just before I have to leave

for new streets

different light and strange beds

I cherish my silence

being home alone
and forget
that at 11 o'clock
on Sunday the world
still exists

I wanted to come
but now with coffee
waiting for shuttle bus
it is too late

(on the road to Strasburg, France)

'Brugge', city of water from the middle ages

Brugge and the 'Reien', the canals through Brugge are a real attraction.  My last visit to Brugge was with wonderful Rose Van de Walle for the presentation of Annie Reniers' 'Grasschriftuur'. Years ago.

 So it was a pleasure once again in good company to rediscover the charms of this old city. It rained on and off, so it wasn't as if  we were just walking through a film set for a period film. Brugge is not a city in decay.
 Official buildings, the town hall where Napoleon visited and which now houses a Museum and also private buildings and churches are well kept. The town is a tourist trap and in certain periods can be a bit overrun. It is sad that the main shopping area has exactly the same shops as in other European main streets. But in Brugge the lace is still hand made and pretty. The food is generally good and the atmosphere relaxed

 There is however also a modern part pf Brugge with a concert hall with a great sound and this pleasant sculpting. And old ladies up for a conversation, proud of their town.

So a good time was had by all.

Sightseeing in Belgium

 When a friend visits you in a place she has never been, what do you show? My friend having worries, I decided to show her my favorite chapel: it is where the working girls would go to confession and there always is a nice quite and peaceful atmosphere. It is an beautiful baroque chapel, dedicated to Mary and St Antony. As you can tell many do light a candle to lighten their load, adding to the warmth and meditative ambiente.

Then we walked and visited many enclosed city gardens and small squares and even the botanical garden, smack in the middle of town. The whole city is  also filled with hundred of Madonnas.

 And yes, Antwerp is a playful city as one can tell by the the lion.

My Italian friend visited because of a European swimming competition. Her son won two gold medals and a bronze one. The Italian team won the relay swimming.

Occupy in Utrecht The Netherlands and Kingman, Arizona

During a trip to Utrecht we talked to the people from Occupy Utrecht. Well organized, fun and committed.Lots of music and fun, but also discussions and planning for the next events was the fare of the day. 

 But then there is also Kingman, in extremely republican Arizona. The 99% supporters gather each Saturday at the train in the Park along the historic Route 66.


Here the group was rather small on the hot Saturday morning, yet it was a pleasant crowd talking about topical issues and the upcoming presidential elections. So On Sundays they have a peace vigil on a different location and on Wednesdays they have a gathering to suppport women's reproductive rights which are under thread because of republican inititatives.
A lot of work needs to be done, the grass roots in America are waking up and growing. We are the 99% working for better futures.

Route 66- continued

The route is all about the road, the place longed for, dreamed of, imagined in one's soul. The state of the road doesn't matter.
Neither does the means of transportation. being on the move, desire, solitude and beauty are the guiding lights.  

Restaurants I didn't stop at. And forlorn places where time was framed in old signs: Roadrunner Restaurant.
One  almost hears the jazz of those days in the purring motor.


Waterside property advertised in the enormous and beautiful Mojave Desert... No, no, not a sedentary life, near a moist air river.



It is all about the road, the encounters, the sharing of long vistas which heal your eyes. There is a road to where you're going.
May traveling the Route 66 help each of us find our road, straight or winding, up and down with left curves and straight ahead: a metaphor for life, a road with many futures.

 

Small Town Bake Sale

To me this is an iconic picture of a small town in the West: The swamp cooler sticking out the window, the ladies in the shadow wearing their shades. Also I love seeing the king cap white pickup truck and when  you click on the picture you'll notice the quad...

The guys, members of the E Clampus Vitus are up the mountain to paint the C in bright white so that when one walks around one is reminded of where one is.

The women, in real community spirit have been baking: I got Brownies, pound cake, chocolate-chip-almond bars, and peanut butter  and raisin cookies. They also have fresh white bread. One lady proudly shows us her blueberry muffins... Note the red nails and the bangles.

Of course the obligatory warning is posted that all the goodies are not from a health authority inspected kitchen...
I have eaten some of my stash I took along and can assure you the quality is excellent. So munching along while blogging I help pay for the white paint and the 'brotherhood' of a day out on the mountain.
Small town... great people

Superintendent of Big upper Branch of Massey indited

 In June last year while in Beckley, West Viginia, I met Delbert, one of the people from the shift of which 29 miners died on April 5th, 2010.

He was kind enough to take the time to show the memorials and talk about the substandard safety and working conditions ( at least in European eyes). On his helmet the record longwall 100 feet retreat in 24 hours... Without roof support, without trade unions. Now one Gary May has been indited for falsifying safety records and for sing code words tiping of the miners underground  if a surprise inspection came.. It is obvious that the way the mine worked was to get as much coal out as possible and not cutting only coal but also cutting corners  and having to work in unsafe circumstances. Maybe this brings closure for the families, maybe safety in all mines will be improved because of this gruesome disaster.
Thank you again Delbert for sharing your story.

V.R.'s 65 bash

 Veerle is a great graphic artist and wonderful enabler of projects involving word and image. For her 65th birthday she invited friends, family, people she had worked with. The afternoon started with Patricia Beyssens, great attitude and voice, wonderful choice of songs.

 Tony had organized a program in which different artists or authors would speak about the different projects. He was a smooth operator introducing the people he knows well.

 Philosopher Frans Boenders entertained us with his take on South Africa ( one the projects), although basically traveling more to the orient. He finished with four quatrains, funny and telling.

 City Peter, the just released city poet Laureate of Antwerp gave a fine performance, warm and with even a song on a melodica. He spoke about the working together with Veerle for the cover of one of his book. Down on the right a picture of the wonderful place Zaal 7, pure art nouveau and holding about 150 pople that day.

 The left guy Jack van Peer is the president of the Foundation which wants to work to preserve and support contemporary graphics.
On the right is Jan Dockx President of the Circle of Friends which will be treated to museum visits and learning about contemporary graphic art.

 Tony in a pensive, quiet moment before the
second set of German Lieder  from about the 1920/1930's... Click on the picture and admire the shoes.

The picture below shows Johan van Cauwenbergen in a rousing speech.

 Veerle's partner Willem Persoon spoke about the 10 years the have been together: the busy, rich fulfilled life  with Veerle.
I which both of them many more years, many projects and good times.

Marleen de Crée also spoke about the first project in the Masereel Fonds in Kasterlee and the often mentioned trip to South Africa. The microphone kept hiding her face so the picture didn't work. Ivo Va, Damme, who takes the pictures at these events is the man on the left.
 And the birthday girl is seen here unwrapping  the gift of all the artists: a piece of original graphic work plus a poem by every poet. Happy Birthday Veerle8